there once was a young man from a third world country.
all of his life, for as long as he could remember he dreamed of one day moving to america.
he talked about it constantly. read as many books and watched as many movies on the subject as he could.
it permeated his dreams.
a day didnt go by where he didnt think of going to america.
he imagined himself there constantly.
he knew what it would be like.
what he would be like.
it would be the most amazing thing ever.
it took years of saving, and many missed opportunities (the young man was quite scared of many things) but finally his chance had come.
his heart pounded with anticipation as he finally laid eyes on the statue of liberty.
he couldnt wait for the boat to dock. if it wasnt for the height of the ship he would have gladly swam the rest of the way.
but once he got settled on american soil, he realized that it was not as magnificant as he imagined.
was america bad?
no, not at all. it was still amazing. full of opporunities and freedoms the young man could have never experienced elsewhere.
but the problem was that his imagination exceeded reality.
america could never be as wonderful as he imagined it.
the young man, as well as i, would do well to remember that though the imaginary version of "america" is more exciting than reality, it is not real and can provide you with nothing but a dream.
while the real "america" is wonderful once you get adjusted.
10:37 a.m. - 2004-10-21
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